“I thought you told me that was a cover for her own investigation into her past.”
“It was, but nobody else knew that, except the FBI agent who was out here—Duke Harper.”
Folding his arms, Jim wedged his hip against the post on the porch. “Do you think he’d talk to me about his findings when he was out here? Did you make that kind of connection with him?”
“I got friendly with him and Beth. They knew each other from before and are still together, as far as I know.”
“Would you mind calling him for me or giving me his number?”
“Sure. I’ll do that.” She rubbed her throat, where an angry red mark remained as the only evidence of the attack she’d suffered. “Do you want to install those locks now?”
“Yeah, but I think you should upgrade to security cameras. If you’d had one, right now we’d be looking at the tape of the guy who assaulted you.”
While he worked on the new locks, Scarlett retreated to her studio. When he poked his head into the room, she looked up from a laptop.
“Working?”
“Working, not creating. I’m doing an inventory of some pieces for my upcoming show.”
“When’s the show?” He weaved his way through the explosion of colors and textures in the room to reach the sliding door in the back.
“It’s in a few weeks, in West Hollywood.”
He pretended to concentrate on the sliding door. She had art shows all over the world. He’d looked her up on the internet. Critics raved about her modern art and high-end buyers snapped it up.
“What do you do with your cabin when you’re away?”
“My cousins check in on it, and sometimes Jason stays here.” She tapped her keyboard and closed the laptop. “Are you going home before we have dinner?”
“Yeah.” He plucked his black T-shirt away from his chest. “I was wearing these clothes when I changed the tires on the bike. I won’t be long. You hungry?”
Her eyes flicked over his body like a hot lash that he felt to his core. “Starving.”
He finished his work in record speed as Scarlett wandered around the studio, assessing her work for the show. When he packed up his tools, he was more than ready to call it a day and spend some time with Scarlett—time where they wouldn’t have to be looking over their shoulders every two minutes. Precious time before she left Timberline.
Hovering by the front door, he asked, “Do you want another spin on the bike, or do you want to drive?”
“I’ve had enough excitement for the day. I’ll pick you up around seven.”
He hesitated and then marched back to her. “Don’t open the door for anyone, and don’t go outside—not for a horn, not for an animal in distress.”
“Thanks, you just made me scared to be in my own house.” She bit her lip and glanced out the window.
“A little fear isn’t a bad thing right now. Someone set fire to your property and someone physically threatened you.” He folded his arms so he wouldn’t be tempted to pull her against his chest again. There was no telling where that would end. “In fact, maybe you should think about heading down to California early for your show. Stop off in San Francisco on the way.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“I’m trying to protect you, Scarlett. Let the sheriff’s department handle Rusty’s murder. Let me handle my own memories. I may not ever find out what happened that night, and maybe I’m not supposed to.”
“I don’t believe you’d be okay with that. It’s the reason you returned to Timberline—you need to face all your demons.”
He shook his head. “That could take years.”
“Oh, wait.” She held up her index finger. “I texted Dr. Shipman’s number to you earlier. Did you get it?”
“I’m not sure. Do you want to give it to me again at dinner tonight?”
She rolled her eyes. “Lucky for you, I also wrote it down and stuck it to my fridge.” She spun around and went into the kitchen, plucking a sticky note from the refrigerator.
With the yellow note stuck to her fingertip, she waved it at him as she returned. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He peeled the note from her finger and shoved it into his pocket. “See you at seven.”
When Jim got back to his place, Dax was stretched out on the couch watching a fishing show.
Jim glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he tossed his keys on the kitchen table. “You been like that all afternoon?”
“I’m tired.”
“Did you happen to run into Chewy when you were out today?”
“Matter of fact, I did drop in on him.”
“So was it the stars aligning that brought the two of you back to Timberline at the same time? Rusty, too?”
“His woman’s mother lives in Port Angeles. She’s there visiting. Not much of a stretch for Chewy to come this way to check out his old stomping grounds. And I told you I don’t know nothing about Rusty.”
“Did you and Chewy talk about Rusty?”
“Uh-huh.” Dax sat up. “Look at that fish. I need to do some fishing while I’m here...maybe some hunting.”
Jim stopped at the entrance to the hallway, hooking a thumb in his front pocket. “You were never much for hunting.”
Dax looked up, his hand buried in a bag of microwave popcorn. “That was you and Slick, wasn’t it? He taught you to use a rifle like a pro. You put that knowledge to good use and started hunting another kind of animal.”
Jim flinched. “I saved more lives than I took.”
“I know that, J.T.” Dax crammed a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. “Does that Scarlett feel the same way? She’s out here in Timberline trying to save a few turkeys from their final resting place on the Thanksgiving dinner table. And you were over there...”
Jim banged his fist on the wall and shut out the rest of Dax’s words by closing the bedroom door. As if he needed any more proof that Scarlett wouldn’t want to start something with him.
Even if she had saved his high school senior picture.
* * *
SCARLETT VENTURED ONTO the porch, looking from left to right. She’d been spooked enough without Jim driving it home for her that someone had her in his crosshairs—just like prey.
She crept to her car and then slammed the door and locked it, releasing a long breath. She hated that someone had made her fear her own shadow, on her own property.
Pulling the car in front of Jim’s cabin, she beeped the horn once. A rectangle of light appeared with the silhouette of Jim’s body framed in the center.
As he descended the steps, she held her breath but didn’t know why. His gait was more unsteady on steps, but he seemed to be able to navigate them with ease. He certainly didn’t need her worrying about him.
She popped the locks as he approached, grabbed her purse from the passenger seat and shoved it on the floor of the backseat. As he slid in next to her, she breathed in the scent of soap and leather. The smell would always remind her of Jim forever after.
She blinked and forced a smile to her lips. “Sutter’s? It’s the place to see and be seen in town.”
“That’s the purpose behind this date.”
“Date? Does that mean you’re picking up the tab?” She tried to keep her tone light. Was showing others they were more than just investigative partners really the only purpose behind their dinner?
“I will absolutely pick up the tab. How’d it look otherwise?” He snapped on his seat belt.
“Like you’re a cheapskate, so I’m glad we settled that.”
“How much can rabbit food possibly cost? I’m guessing you’re a cheap date.”
She snorted. “You’ve obviously never shopped at health food stores.”
She turned onto the main road to t
own and they drove in silence as Jim poked the radio buttons, never staying on a song for more than a few seconds. When they reached town, she parked in the public lot across from the restaurant.
Jim jumped from the car before she cut the engine and came around to the driver’s side and opened the door. “Just getting into character.”
She slid from the car and hooked her hand around his arm. “Me, too.”
He opened the door of the restaurant for her, and several heads turned their way. That was the thing about small towns—everybody got up in your business. Maybe word would get around that they were dating and not together because they were poking their noses into kidnappings.
The hostess tapped her pencil on her notebook. “There’s about a ten-minute wait right now unless you want to sit at the bar.”
“We’ll wait.” Jim steered Scarlett toward the wall across from the hostess stand and gestured to the paintings decorating it. “Do you ever display your work here? Too lowbrow?”
“Not at all. I’ll hang my landscapes of the area here occasionally. People like local art.”
“But you wouldn’t place your modern art here?”
“And scare everyone away? Nope.”
They studied the artwork together until the hostess called them over.
“Your table is ready. Do you mind? It’s kind of the center of the dining room. If you wait another ten minutes or so, I can probably seat you someplace more private.”
“That’s okay.” Scarlett charged ahead to the only empty table in the place.
Jim pulled out a chair for her, and they both thanked the hostess.
Leaning forward, Jim asked, “Is Jason’s girlfriend working tonight?”
“I have no idea.” She looked around the room. “Doesn’t look like it.”
“Even though we’re supposed to look like we’re not talking about the Timberline Trio case,” he said as he took her hand across the table, “doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it.”
“Did your brother open up to you any more today?”
“No, but he did say he met with Chewy.”
Her fingers toyed with his. “Your brother, Chewy and Rusty were all in town at around the same time and one of them ends up dead. Then Granny tells us that a couple of members of the old Q-gang show up out of the blue, including my uncle.”
“I think they’re all here for the same reason, and it has something to do with their association years ago at the time of the kidnappings.”
“I think you’re right, but nobody’s talking.”
The waiter approached their table and took their drink orders.
“You don’t mind if I have a beer, do you?”
“No, but if you have more than one, I’ll take the wheel on the way home.”
“That’s a deal. I’ll probably need about five after the day I had.” She held up her hands. “Just kidding.”
“Go ahead and have five, Scarlett, if you want. I’m not a leading member of the temperance movement or anything.”
“When did you give up drinking?”
“When I was in the army.”
“Helluva time to swear off booze.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Did you call Dr. Shipman this afternoon?”
“By the time I thought about it, she’d left for the day. I’ll try again tomorrow.”
The waiter returned with her beer and Jim’s soda. “Are you ready to order?”
When they’d placed their orders and the waiter left, Jim asked, “You don’t mind that I ordered pork chops, do you?”
“I’m not the leader of the vegetarian movement, either.” She clinked her glass against his and took a sip of her beer.
Jim hunched forward and touched his finger to her upper lip. “Foam.”
“Smooth move, Kennedy.”
“That wasn’t for show. You really did have some foam on your mouth.”
She licked her lips. “What if you just gave it up? What if you just let that particular sleeping dog lie? Something unexplainable happened to you as a child. Can you let it go?”
“Not sure.” He stirred his ice with his straw. “It haunted me when I was...imprisoned. Funny, all the things they did to me in captivity and my constant nightmare was the attempted kidnapping.”
“Maybe because it happened to you as a child, it holds a special terror. I’m not sure we ever get over our childhood fears.”
“And what was yours? All I ever saw was a confident, pretty girl who knew what she wanted in life and went out to get it.”
“I put up a good front.” She took a long pull from her beer, savoring the warmth in her belly. “You know I lost my parents and my baby brother in a car accident. I was supposed to be in that car.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother. I’m sorry.”
“He wasn’t even a year old. I should’ve stopped all of them that day.”
“How old were you?”
“Six, and before you start in with the ‘you were too young’ business, I believe that was my first experience with my special gift, only it wasn’t so special.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was supposed to be on that trip, but I faked a stomachache so I wouldn’t have to go. I had a feeling, even back then.”
He brushed his knuckles along her forearm. “And Evelyn was telling me to deal with my guilt. I hope she told you the same.”
“I’ve worked through it. How do you think I know Dr. Shipman?”
“This is supposed to be a date. We’re way too serious over here. People are going to have their suspicions confirmed that we’re working on something together.” He hunched forward on the table and kissed her mouth. “Do you think that’ll convince them otherwise?”
“It’s a start.”
She wouldn’t have minded practicing a little more convincing, but the waiter showed up with their food.
During their meal, they caught up on what they’d been doing since high school, and Jim’s eyes lit up when he talked about his work with vets.
“You had a great idea before.” She placed her fork on the edge of her plate. “Art.”
“Sculpture?”
“Any kind of art—painting, sculpture, ceramics. Is there anything like that in any of the centers where you worked?”
“Not that I noticed, but I think that could work.”
“I could probably get a fair number of my artist friends to volunteer some of their time.”
“That would be incredible if you could provide the volunteers.”
Smiling, Scarlett picked up her fork. Jim’s approval gave her a warm feeling inside. She cut off a corner of her spinach lasagna. His approval was coming to mean a lot to her—maybe too much. He had demons to slay and she had an art show in West Hollywood.
“Hey there, Scarlett.”
She dropped her fork as she met the dark gaze of her uncle, a little frisson of fear glancing the back of her neck. He’d appeared out of nowhere, just like he always did, stealthy as a cat.
“Uncle Danny. Are you back in town?”
He spread his arms, his eyes flickering toward Jim. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I—I just didn’t hear anything about your return.” She gritted her teeth at the way her voice wavered, but she had no intention of admitting she and Granny had talked about him. Her uncle could reduce her to a stammering child with one look from his cold eyes—even when she wasn’t lying to him.
“You shouldn’t depend on the reservation grapevine.” He formed his fingers into a gun and aimed it at her. “It’s usually wrong.”
“I’m sorry.” She tipped her head toward Jim. “This is Jim Kennedy. He’s a local. I went to high school with him. Jim, this is Danny Easton, my uncle.”
“I remember the Kennedy family—Slick and your brother. You a bigot, too?”
Scarlett drew in a quick breath, her eyes darting to Jim’s face.
Jim pushed his plate away and crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess they weren’t too bigoted for you and your boys to do some business with them.”
Scarlett held her breath as Danny’s lips formed a thin line and his black eyes glittered.
“Sounds like you’ve been listening to gossip from the rez, too.” He drummed his long fingers on the table. “I’d join you, Scar, but I’m meeting someone at the bar.”
“Are you going to drop in on Granny while you’re here?”
“Why? She never liked me. Never thought our family was good enough for your mother.”
Scarlett dropped her gaze to her plate and twirled the tines of her fork around a string of melted cheese. “She never had a problem with Dad.”
Danny released a soft snort, and the heels of his boots clicked away from the table.
“No family love there, huh?”
“Uncle Danny is no friend to the Quileute. He’s always been bad news. When my mom and dad started dating, Granny was concerned about her marrying into the Easton family, but like I said, she judges everyone individually. When she met my dad, she could tell he was one of the good guys—Danny, not so much.”
“I don’t remember Danny, and I sure don’t remember that he had some gang of his own.”
“That surprised me, too, but I do know that he was persona non grata around the reservation. After the accident that killed my parents, I never saw him.”
“So, another piece of the puzzle moves into position. We have Rusty, Chewy and my brother all converging on Timberline and now Danny Easton shows up. It’s like a dark cloud hovering over the town.” He shook the ice in his glass. “I suppose you’d have known if it was your own uncle holding a knife to your neck, wouldn’t you?”
“I would, but you know what’s unsettling?”
“Let’s see.” He held up his hand and ticked off his fingers. “Finding a dead body, arson, a defaced painting and a knife attack?”
“Besides all that.” She picked up her butter knife and ran her thumb along the dull, serrated edge. “The man who attacked me was wearing gloves.”
Army Ranger Redemption Page 13